Review Summary: The sincerest form of flattery.
British Columbian quintet Secret & Whisper are one of the latest Tooth and Nail signings. After breaking up an older band and starting anew with a different vocalist (Charles Furney, formerly of Thebleedingalarm), you can understand how determined the band are to establish themselves as a staple of the flourishing North American post-hardcore scene. They have the passion, unquestionably, in hand with hype, energy and even sound instrumental ability.
It is sad to say, however, that this not enough to stop
Great White Whale, the band’s debut, from being a generally uninteresting and lethargic effort that completely defies the band’s obvious potential. The album cover depicts a whale in a cage, which unintentionally describes the record perfectly- Secret and Whisper are aiming for something massive, but simply don’t know how to unlock it yet.
The main restriction on the band is their overall lack of ideas- though it’s not as if they don’t try. The idea of mixing elements of post-hardcore, metalcore and progressive rock must have looked great on paper, but ultimately falls short of the ridiculously high pedestal the band have set for themselves. There is no real stamp of identity found on the record- extract Charles Furney’s wailing on the plodding “You Are Familiar” and replace with the howls of Alex Varkatzas or Howard Jones and one could easily have an Atreyu or Killswitch Engage track left on the cutting room floor. The lyrics, too, are generally boring and tend to reference “secrets” and “whispers” frequently- wonder where
that came from.
The worst thing about it all is when a song starts to show potential on
Great White Whale, the band either get repetitive or use breakdowns to create a heavier backdrop or emphasise emotion, both of which simply don’t work at all. Guitarists Braydn Byron and Jason Ciolli appear to underestimate their own abilities, reluctant to take charge in any aspect of the songs’ overall sound, leaving that to the vocals (which are generally dull to begin with).
Near the end, the band even turns to balladry- and what a mistake this turns out to be. “Werewolves” is an absolute pain to even listen to, with weak delivery, soppy piano and ridiculously dull drum programming coming across as a mutant breed of Saosin’s “You’re Not Alone” and OneRepublic’s “Apologize”. Speaking of Saosin, guess who are fans? If you’ve guessed S&W, you’re not wrong: “Lovers” pays homage to both “Voices” and “I Can Tell There Was An Accident Here Earlier”; while “Vanishings” owes more than a share to “Bury Your Head”. Vocally, especially, Furney tries desperately to sound just like both the former (Anthony Green) and current (Cove Reber) frontmen of Saosin. He lacks, however, Green’s high pitched intensity and Reber’s harmony and emotional delivery to even be considered in the same league of either.
In spite of this, there is still hope for Secret & Whisper. In
Great White Whale’s case, it is found in the songs “XOXOXO” and “Spider Besider”. Over an intense, fast-paced lick (arguably the only decent one found on the entire record), “XOXOXO” is the closest the band get at this stage to their desired sound- huge vocals, downtuned riffing and high-octane energy that keeps the listener interested and excited.
“Spider Besider” keeps up the pace of “X0XOXO”, but with more melodic contrast and an infectious chorus (easily the best song ever to have a Chinese name in its hook- “Iachoku! Iachoku!”). It is here where the band are focused, tight and prove their potential.
Such a shame, then, that this simply does not last throughout the album’s entirety. Even at forty-two minutes, the record feels overlong and attempts at listening to the record from start to finish are futile. Generally uninspired and, worse, uninteresting,
Great White Whale unfortunately fails to make much of a splash at all. Post-hardcore fans should keep “XOXOXO” and “Spider Besider” on their iPods, everybody else should most probably steer clear of this one.